


Photographs

by blackhighheels



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - School, Drama & Romance, M/M, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:41:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22896652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackhighheels/pseuds/blackhighheels
Summary: Just, every once in a while he likes to open the box and reminisce, maybe have a good cry over it, before he locks the box and the memories away again until the next time.He comes face to face with his past, captured in pictures that exist only in his mind and in this little cardboard square. It's his past with his first and only love, his first kiss, his first heartbreak.
Relationships: Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo
Comments: 50
Kudos: 50





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, to get my groove back I decided to finish this AU one shot that has been sitting on my computer for a while.

_Jose carefully takes the blue cardboard box out of the closet, where it stood hidden underneath Christmas decorations, old winter coats and Riley's old dog toys - so anything his boyfriend would never go near. He carries it into the living room, listens, checking if he is really alone. There are things in this box that his boyfriend doesn't need to know about._

_Just, every once in a while he likes to open the box and reminisce, maybe have a good cry over it, before he locks the box and the memories away again until the next time. He wipes the dust off with his sleeve, before he takes the lid off the box. He comes face to face with his past, captured in pictures that exist only in his mind and in this little cardboard square. It's his past with his first and only love, his first kiss, his first heartbreak. It's something he cannot share with his boyfriend. He's been mocked by too many people about this box._

_Like a fragile treasure he takes out picture after picture as he reclines back against the armchair, with nothing but silence around him, that he does not notice, as in his mind he is travelling back in time._

*******

**Photograph: Nine year old Jose, dressed in a blue T-shirt, hair styled, smiling widely into the camera of a school picture.**

"Mama, I don't wanna go! Can't I stay home?" Jose feels sick. He doesn't want to go to school. He hates school and he especially hates new schools. Being the new kid always sucks and finding new friends each time is hard. His older brother doesn't care, he's too cool for that and his younger brother is too small to even understand that he'll be in a new kindergarten again. However Jose…. he doesn't want to go.

"Jose, shut up! You've been whining all morning. It's driving me crazy!"

"Leave your brother alone, mijo. And yes, you will go to school today." His mother breaks up the fight between him and his brother, but he still gets slapped in the head by him.

"They all talk funny here," he pouts and feels like crying.

"You talk funny!" He gets shoved into the wall as his brother passes him.

"Hey! Leave me alone," he whines and feels the tears coming.

"Leave me alone," his brother mocks his whining and takes his backpack. "I'm leaving, ma." He says and is out of the house, the door slamming behind him.

"Jose, this is your last warning! Put your shoes on! You are not going to be late for your first day," his mother means business and he knows he will get a spanking before school, if he doesn't do what she says.

Reluctantly he slips into his shoes and jacket. "Can't I just go to work with you? I'm good with make-up," he tries one last time.

"I know you are, papi, but you need to finish school first. They even have a hiphop class you can go to. You wanted to dance again, right?"

"Right," he sniffs and wipes the tears and snot away with the sleeve of his jacket. Then he lifts his heavy backpack and puts it on. It's nearly bigger than him.

"You remember the way?" his mother asks him, because they live in walking distance of the school for once. He nods. They've walked the way at least ten times over the weekend, so he will find his school.

Everything is so different here. Smaller, greener, greyer, colder and people have a funny accent when they talk. He misses Florida, the palm trees and the beach, his friends and his grandma. But this is home now, because his mother's boyfriend works here. And he likes him, he's good to his mom. So, here he is, on his first day of school in Canada.

He gets a kiss on the forehead and his mother fiddles with his hair a bit before he finally leaves. Kids come from every direction and throw him curious looks as he walks in the same direction as they do. It's just a ten minute walk and still, he is glad when he arrives at the school building because it's so cold outside. His little brother was so happy to see his first snow, but Jose doesn't like it.

He looks around and doesn't know where to go once he enters the building. This part they couldn't rehearse. Children are everywhere and one corridor looks like the other. Jose feels scared and lonely and he wants to go home. He tries not to cry as he tries to find his way.

There are signs on the walls but the words are long, unfamiliar and hard to read. He hopes the teachers here won't make fun of him when he can't put the words together. Some did at his old school and then all the kids in his class laughed. But it's not his fault the letters start dancing in front of his eyes, twist into weird forms and blur into each other. His mom says there is something wrong in his brain that makes him see them this way. His brother always mocks him for it.

Finally he sees an adult come through the crowd of children in the hallways. A tall, blonde man with a beard. He looks nice.

"Excuse me, Sir, can you tell me where the headmaster's office is?" he asks him as politely as he can. His mother always tells him it is important to make a good first impression.

"Already gotten into trouble on the first day, young man?" The man smiles warmly at him and Jose decides that he likes him.

"No, I'm new and my mama told me I have to check in with the headmaster first and give him all them papers. She couldn't come, she has to get my brother to kindergarten and go to work."

"Alright then, I'll show you the way. Follow me," he is told and tries to keep up with the long strides of the tall man. "I'm the guidance counsellor Mr. Hayhoe."

Jose has to giggle. "Like the dwarves song in snowwhite?"

"Spelled a bit differently, but basically, yes," the man laughs with him. "And you are?"

"I'm Jose," he smiles up at him and holds out his hand.

"Very nice to meet you, Jose," he shakes his hand and ruffles his hair. Suddenly Jose doesn't feel as awful anymore.

*******

**Photograph: His mother is sitting on a chair in a large room, his little brother in her lap and Jose to her right, all in their Sunday's best. Several adults are sitting at the table as well and a large buffet with cakes can be seen in the background of the picture.**

"We absolutely recommend the special lessons. It will help him to catch up and improve his reading and writing. It is hard work, but he's a bright boy and he can catch up," Jose hears Mr. Hayhoe tell his mother.

They are attending church for the first time since they moved here. His mother says, now that they are settled in it's important to meet new friends and become part of the community. Jose didn't know half of his teachers and the guidance counsellor would also be here. They are trying to talk his mother into making him go to some special reading class. He doesn't want to. He hates reading. And maths. And history. It's all so boring. At least he gets to go to dance and make some friends there. He's better than most of them because he had a very good teacher back in Florida and he and his friends always used to dance, even after practice.

"Mama, I'm bored," he pouts, because he is sick and tired of sitting around. Service was long and his mother stopped his fidgeting several times when he kicked his legs, goofed around for his younger brother or tried to dodge his older brother's kicks and jabs with his elbow when his mother wasn't looking. Of course he gets into trouble for it, because he's not a good liar.

"Jose, stop saying that. Go and play," she replies and he knows he shouldn't have interrupted the adults.

"There's no one here I know," he whines. "Can we go home? I wanna play with Rocky." He doesn't understand why they just can't take their dog to church with them. It would be so much more fun and he'd have someone to play with now.

"My kids are outside playing as well. Maybe you can find my youngest son? I'm sure he'd love to introduce you to everyone. They're playing basketball." Mr Hayhoe suggests and Jose decides going outside is better than bumming around here.

"Can I?" he asks his mother.

"Yes, of course. But don't go anywhere else."

He runs outside and over the large field of grass. Some younger kids are playing catch, his older brother is over by the teens and has already made friends. He spots the basketball court and runs over to the kids who are playing. He has no idea which one of them is Mr. Hayhoe's son, but at least they all look to be about his age, maybe a bit older.

He leans against the fence and watches for a second but they don't take notice of him.

"Hey, can I play with you?" he finally yells, after one team just scored a point.

"Who are you?" a boy with red hair and freckles asks.

"I'm Jose. I'm new here. We moved here from Florida a few months ago," he tells them and they all stare at him. He looks around and his eyes stop at a thin, tall boy. He has blonde curls, blue eyes and wears braces.

Jose wants braces, too, because all the kids have them now, but his mom says he doesn't need them. The boy stares back and their eyes meet. He has really blue eyes and is so pretty; Jose really wants to be his friend. "So, can I play with you?" he asks him directly and gives him a shy smile.

All the boys now look to the blonde one. He seems to be the boss.

"Brock, what do you say?" a dark haired boy asks him.

"No, you can't," he decides and passes the ball to one of his friends. They walk back to middle of the court, their backs to Jose.

"Why not?" he asks, so disappointed he feels like crying.

"Because you're a baby," Brock tells him and the others laugh.

"Am not!" he yells and stomps his foot. "I'm nearly ten!"

"Look, at you! You're crying! You're a little cry baby," Brock goes on and suddenly Jose doesn't like him anymore. He's mean.

So Jose does what his older brother would do: He runs across the court and pushes Brock as hard as he can, before he runs off. Ok, his brother wouldn't cry while doing so, but still. He hides underneath a broken slide nearby until he can stop crying. He builds a sand castle all alone. Then he walks back inside the hall of the church, where his mother is still talking to other adults. His little brother is asleep.

"Ah Jose, there you are. Did you have a nice time with the other kids?" She asks him with a smile. He doesn't want to worry her more than he already does because of his reading.

"Yeah," he shrugs and hopes she believes him.

"Can you go and find your brother? We're leaving in a minute." He gets a kiss on his hair before he runs off again to find his brother. He avoids all other kids on his way.

*******

**Photograph: Jose blowing out candles on a cake that has a large 11 on it. He wears a pink birthday hat and several girls and boys are standing around watching and obviously singing to him.**

Jose didn't want to celebrate his birthday at the church's Sunday picnic. Only once he is allowed to invite his friends from school and dance, he is ok with it.

There is only one kid at church that he wants at his birthday party, even though he is always so mean to him: Brock. He still wants him as his friend.

Brock has started calling him a creep baby or stalker baby, because Jose always follows him around and watches him, like a lost puppy. Jose knows it is stupid, but maybe he'll be able to get into Brock's clique and be his friend, if he doesn't give up?

And here Brock is now at his birthday party and Jose is happy.

"Hey, you want some cake?" he asks him and holds out a paper plate for him.

"Yeah, thanks," Brock replies and takes a small package out of his backpack. "Here, your present," he says and looks around. His parents are with the other parents over by the benches.

"Thank you," Jose feels so happy he wants to give him a hug. Brock brought him a present! This is his best birthday ever! "I'm at your school now."

"Yeah, I've seen you around."

"Cool! Can we hang out at lunch tomorrow?" He really, really wants to sit with Brock at lunch. Or have Brock sit with him and his friends. "My friends are cool, you'll like them and then we can all be friends."

"No, I don't wanna. And we're not friends." Brock lowers his voice and seems to make sure no one hears him.

"But you came to my party and you brought me a present," Jose holds the package up, clings to it.

"Yeah, because my parents made me come. I wanted to stay home."

"Why don't you wanna be my friend?" Jose asks, his voice quivering and tears coming to his eyes.

"Why do you wanna be mine? You're always following me around, all annoying with your yelling and dancing all the time. It's embarrassing."

"Because… " Jose doesn't know how to explain it. "You're pretty," he finally says with a small shrug.

"Oh god… are you…. Jesus, you did not just say that!" Brock looks disgusted and Jose feels even more stupid now.

"Don't swear, we're at church," he sniffs, so snot doesn't trip from his nose like the tears from his eyes.

"God, you're such a sissy boy," Brock rolls his eyes and walks off. Jose just stands there, still holding on to the present. He doesn't want it no more and wants to throw it at Brock's head. But his mother would beat him if she saw that. Curiosity wins in the end and he seeks out a quiet corner where he can unwrap it and get himself under control at the same time.

Inside, he finds a red basketball hat of his favourite team. He wonders how Brock knows, but then realises that most likely his parents got the gift and just asked his mother. He loves the hat, loves it even more because Brock gave it to him, even if he doesn't like him.

"Jose? Mijo, where are you?" he hears his mother call. "Dios mio, that boy will be the death of me, always running off somewhere," she adds more quietly.

"Mama, I'm here. I just unwrapped the gift Brock gave me," he tells her after he wiped his tears away. He puts the hat on and pulls it deep into his face so she doesn't realise that he's been crying again.

"Did you thank him?"

"Yes."

"And his parents?"

"No, he just gave it to me," he tries to defend himself.

"Go and tell them thank you," she orders.

"Yes ma'am," he mutters and runs off to where Brock's parents are sitting and eating cake. Brock is sitting beside them, but Jose decides to ignore him. He is eleven now and if Brock doesn't want to be his friend, then he will be a grown up and accept it.

*******

**Photograph: A polaroid of Jose in shorts and a basketball Jersey, sporting a black eye and having a bandage above his right eyebrow.**

"Hey, Jose," he is greeted by a friend of his brother as he walks into the room. He can see Brock slouched in his chair at the back of the room, but he ignores him like he usually does. They hardly ever see each other at school, because Brock is two years above him and has a different schedule. Yet, they still see each other at church and Jose sticks to his plan and has stayed away from him ever since his birthday party over a year ago.

"Hey, Nick," he replies and sits down in the chair next to him.

"What did you do to end up here?"

"Didn't stop talking in class again, " he says honestly. "You?"

"Got caught smoking behind the gym. You only here today?"

"Yeah, two hours and they called my mom," Jose sighs and takes out the extra work he was given.

"That sucks. I'm just glad my parents never pick up their phones," Nick laughs and Jose joins him, even though he doesn't really think it's funny. "Hey, blondie!" Nick addresses Brock. "What did you do? Blow someone in the bathroom and got caught?" Jose doesn't know exactly what Nick is talking about, but he knows it's really bad and rude.

In the year that he's been in the same school as Brock, he has learned that while Brock might be the queen B at church, he's not one of the cool kids here at school. Jose has way more friends and way cooler friends than the crowd Brock usually hangs out with.

Sometimes he thinks it's only fair that Brock gets treated as badly at school as he treats Jose at church, but then he feels bad for thinking that way. If Brock were his friend, he'd let no one treat him that way, that's for sure.

"Leave me alone," Brock grumbles and goes back to scribbling.

"Watch how you talk to me! You better show me some respect," Nick warns him. Jose knows he has a temper and he knows he is an idiot, like most of his brother's friends are. So far he has always been nice to him though, maybe because he's embarrassed he still hasn't left middle school, even though he should have been out for two years. "You better stay away from him or you might catch something," he warns Jose.

"What do you mean? He sick?" He starts worrying immediately. What could Brock have that is so bad?

"He's a sicko. Everybody knows he's a fag."

"Fag?"

"A faggot, a gay. He likes to fuck other boys," Nick spells it out for him.

"I do not!" Brock protests.

"My mama says everybody can love who they love," Jose shrugs. He knows 'gay' is supposed to be bad and most kids use it as an insult. Yet, if he is honest with himself he'd rather kiss a boy than a girl. He told his mother a while ago when they were alone and she said that was just fine, but that he shouldn't tell anyone until he was sure.

He can feel Brock's eyes on him, burning a hole into the back of his head, but he can't turn around. Not with Nick there, who will tell everything to his brother.

"Well, I think it's disgusting," Nick says with another nasty look at Brock. Then the teacher comes in and they have to be quiet.

By the time Brock and Nick are allowed to leave, Jose is still trying to copy the text he was given. But the letters are dancing in front of his eyes again and he can't seem to make them stop. With a sigh he rubs his eyes. This is so frustrating.

"You ok, Jose?" his teacher asks him from her desk.

"The letters… sometimes they move," he tries to explain and then stops, because he doesn't want her to laugh at him. He knows he is just stupid and letters can't dance, but that's what it looks like to him.

"I know it's hard sometimes. But there are things we can do to help you and things you can do on your own to make it better," she says instead and walks towards him, sits down in the chair beside him.

"Really?"

"Has no one ever done a dyslexia training with you? I mean, you have the diagnosis, right?"

"Who that is?"

"I mean the reason why it is so hard for you to read."

"Cause my brain doesn't work right?"

"Your brain works just fine. Just a bit differently. You know what, why don't you stop by tomorrow and I'll help you with your text. We call it quits for today and you can go home," she suggests.

"So I'm not too stupid to read?"

"No, absolutely not. Come on, darling, pack your things. Let's go home, it's late," she decides and Jose has rarely packed his things so quickly and with such a wide smile.

"Thank you Miss Johnson. You're the best! See you tomorrow!" he hurries out of the classroom and runs down the long corridors of the school. Usually they are not allowed to run, but there's no one around to stop him. He bursts through the door and out into the darkness. His mother is still at work and can't pick him up, so he has to take the bus.

"Let me go!" he hears someone scream and he knows that voice. Brock! Quickly he runs around the next corner and finds Nick and Brock in an alley way. Nick has Brock pressed against the wall, blood dripping from his nose already. Brock tries to get away, but Nick is stronger.

Jose doesn't think before he acts and runs towards them, shoves Nick as hard as he can, kicking his shin for good measure. "Let him go!" he yells.

"Hey, stay out of this Jo!"

"Leave him alone," he says again and puts himself between Nick and Brock. Both boys are taler than him, but he is so angry that he isn't scared at all.

"I told you to get the fuck out of the way and leave!" Nick roars and comes at them. He tries to get to Brock, but Jose fights him.

He might be small, but he has been fighting with his older brother for years and knows how to land a few painful blows or how to duck and cover. Brock tries to help, but it's obvious he's not used to physical fights. When Nick hits him hard in the face, Jose's face slams sideways into the wall behind him. It makes him furious and he lunges at Nick, tackles him to the ground and hits him until Brock pulls him off and tells him to stop. Then they quickly grab their bags and run, only stop when they are back at school. Thank god, the building is still open.

"You're bleeding really bad," Brock says and gently touches his forehead. Jose looks at him and while his face and shirt are blood stained, Brock's nose seems fine now.

"I'm ok," Jose shrugs and tries to wipe the blood away that seems to be tripping from his forehead.

"No, you're really not. I think you gonna need stitches," Brock lets him know and presses a tissue to his forehead, careful not to hurt him. "Let's call our parents so they can pick us up."

"My mom's still at work. I guess I just missed my bus," Jose knows after checking the time.

"We can take you," Brock offers and stirs him in the direction of the secretaries office. The two ladies in there are worried when they see them. The headmaster even lets them wait on his office couch, as they try to get Jose's wound to stop bleeding. Jose doesn't care though, it doesn't even hurt with Brock sitting by his side, looking all worried.

"Brock's parents will take you to the hospital. We reached your mom, she said it's ok," the headmaster finally tells them. "They should be here any second."

"Ok," Jose nods and winces when the wound starts stinging.

"Does it hurt?" Brock asks.

"No," Jose decides to be brave.

"Hey Jose?" he Brock says, very quietly.

"Mmh?"

"Thank you."

"It's ok," he replies but can't stop the wide smile that spreads on his face. He'd get beaten up any day for him, if it means that Brock will finally be his friend. And he is.

*******

**Photograph: Jose and Brock leaning against a wall, both trying to look really cool in a gangster style kind of way.**

"You sure no one will see us here?" Jose worries as he follows Brock along the train tracks towards an abandoned building.

"I'm sure. No one is ever here." Brock assures him and climbs over the small wall, Jose hot on his heels. "You got them?"

"Yeah, sure. My brother always leaves them lying around everywhere," Jose nods and pulls the pack of cigarettes and the lighter out of his backpack.

"You've tried one before?" Brock wants to know and takes one cigarette.

"No, I told you I haven't. My mom will whoop my ass, if she catches me smoking." Still, he takes a cigarette as well and they both light up. "Why haven't you tried it before?"

"My other church friends would tell their parents and get me into deep shit and I didn't wanna do it alone," Brock admits.

"You know I'm always there for the stupid shit," Jose laughs. They both take a drag of their cigarettes.

Jose watches in fascination how cool Brock looks doing it. He wishes he was that beautiful. But Jose isn't as cool and starts coughing immediately. "Yuck, shit, that's disgusting!" He throws the cigarette away and spits on the ground, trying to get the horrible taste out of his mouth. "Why do people do this?" he asks and grabs a gum out of his pocket. Brock just leans against the wall and watches him, laughs at his display of absolute un-coolness.

"Cause it looks good?" Brock wonders and takes another drag of the cigarette.

"Want one too, dumb-ass?" Jose asks him, when he sees Brock scrunch up his face, and holds out the gum. Brock stubs the cigarette out and takes the gum.

"That was a bust. But at least we can cross it off our list now. Thought it would be… better," Brock admits.

"Yeah, me, too," Jose laughs. "Bit like kissing… that sucks too."

"Really?"

"Yeah it's nasty. You like it?" Jose looks stunned.

"I've never kissed anyone," Brock admits and looks to the ground.

"You what? 16 and you never kissed anyone?" Jose doesn't believe it.

"No. And how come you have kissed someone? You're like 12!"

"14, asshole!" Jose punches his arm.

"Who did you kiss? You never told me," Brock asks.

"You know Tara?"

"The pretty blonde cheerleader?" Brock's eyes go wide.

"Yeah, I was invited to her birthday party and we played 'spin the bottle' and her friends made me kiss her. She asked me to be her boyfriend afterwards, but I said no."

"You really didn't like kissing her," Brock chuckles.

"No. I mean… if it's someone you like, I guess it can be nice. But I don't like her… like that." Jose tries to explain.

"I wouldn't know," Brock mutters and seems embarrassed.

"Just kiss someone, then you do know." It's not that hard, right?

"Who? It's not like the other kids at school line up to hang out with me and certainly not to kiss me."

"I'd kiss ya," Jose tells him honestly and with absolute conviction.

"You… Jo… but… you're a guy," Brock stutters, eyes wide.

"So? Guys can kiss guys," he shrugs. "And everyone says you're gay anyway. If you don't like kissing me, at least you know that you're really not, and can get yourself a girlfriend. It's a good way to stop the gossip. I'll tell them, if you want me to; Tell them how I kissed you and how you didn't like it and how you're not gay."

"You'd do that?"

"Yeah. Deal?" Jose asks.

"Deal," Brock finally nods and seems very unsure about what to do.

"Just relax and let me show ya," Jose laughs, brings his hands up to Brock's face, pulls him down towards him and kisses him.

Ok, this really feels different from when he kissed Tara. Brock smells like cologne and he tastes like gum and maybe a hint of cigarettes. Jose reluctantly pulls back a bit and looks up at Brock. His pupils are wide and there's a blush on his cheeks. Their eyes meet and they both lean in again.

Jose learns a thing or two as well that day. The difference between a simple peck and a kiss. A kiss with tongue. The cigarettes lie forgotten on the ground as they make out against the wall until their lips are swollen and the sun starts to set. They have to go home.

"Hey Jo?" Brock asks as they walk back along the tracks towards civilisation. "Can you please not tell anyone anything about… what happened?"

"Why?"

"Because my parents will ship me off to god knows where, if they find out I kissed a boy… and really liked it," he admits.

Jose can't help it, he has to kiss him again right there in the middle of nowhere. "Promise," he vows. "But you better keep them kisses coming," he smirks.

Brock shoves him playfully and they both chase each other the rest of the way home, laughing and touching each other as much as they dare.

Back at home Brock doesn't tell anyone about his first kiss, but Jose tells his mother as soon as he sees her and she promises to keep their secret. So, now he really knows he is gay.

*******

**Photograph: A polaroid of two hands, fingers intertwined, tanned skin against pale skin**

"I think it's cool that you going to ballet camp this summer," Jose says. He is sitting between Brock's outstretched legs, his arms wrapped around his waist, both hidden under the school bleachers.

"My dad nearly had a fit. But I really want it. I just… love to dance," Brock emphasises.

"I know, boo," Jose smiles and kisses him.

"But I'm gonna miss you during the break. Camp is gonna be four weeks. We've never been four weeks apart," Brock is pouting now.

"We'll text and call. I mean, I wish I could come too, but with the shit going on at home… I can't leave my mom," he sighs.

"They're still fighting?"

"Every fucking day. Mostly about the shit my brother gets into. I don't wanna stress her out more. And camp is kinda expensive." Jose sighs heavily.

Life at home sucks at the moment. His older brother is getting more and more out of control and his mother and her boyfriend are fighting constantly. Jose tries to keep his younger brother out of the line of fire, but of course he notices. And then his mom comes to him, crying and upset and asks for advice about what to do. How is he supposed to know? He's a fifteen year old teenager.

"I'm sorry, papi."Brock holds him closer and places a kiss on his neck. He likes it when Brock does that and he wishes they could do more, but it's hard. Neither of them is out at school and besides Jose's mom, no one knows about them.

But they can't go to his house because of the fighting and his brother's fucked up friends. And they can't go to Brock's house because his parents watch them like hawks. Sometimes Jose thinks they know that they're more than just best friends.

"Not your fault. I'm glad you're here." Jose turns his head and kisses him on the mouth. They make out for a while. "I brought something," he remembers then. "I need something until you're back," he pulls out the old polaroid camera he found at home and which still works, to his biggest surprise.

Brock gladly poses with him for picture after picture; some sweet, some funny, some abstract- like when they take a picture of their hands, fingers linked like they usually are when they are alone.

"I really wanna have one," Brock looks at the different shots they've taken.

"Pick one," Jose smiles.

"I can't. If my parents find this…." He trails off.

"Pick one and Imma keep it save for ya until you can have it," Jose suggests and makes Brock smile. He taps his finger at one where they are both smiling at the camera, Brock kissing his cheek.

"This one's mine then," he says. "Promise you'll keep it save for me?"

"Promise," Jose nods and kisses his mouth. "Love ya, B."

"Love you, too, J," Brock says and flinches when the alarm on his phone goes off. "Fuck, I have to go or I'll be late for dinner."

"See you tomorrow?"

"Same time?"

Another kiss and then he's gone.

*******

**Photograph: Picture of Jose. Hair bleached blonde, dark eye make up, lip gloss, earrings and a large tattoo on his chest.**

He's sixteen when he decides that he wants to look how he feels on the inside. He's done hiding. And what's a better time for that than the start of a new school year. He wears all black now, all the time. And gets tattoos. And jewellery, as much as he can get. He is gay and he's feeling all types of ways, so he might let people around him know.

His brothers hate his new look, his mother doesn't say anything, mainly because they are barely speaking these days.

He's still not over the day when he came home shortly before the summer break and she told him they were leaving, going back to Florida. Just like that. It didn't work out with her boyfriend, his brother needed other surroundings and it's a good time for his younger brother to change schools.

"But what about me?" he yells ather. "What about me and Brock?"

"You'll get over him, mijo. You're so young. And as you can see, love never lasts," she tells him and looks so heartbroken that he doesn't find it in him to yell at her some more. Instead he slams the door of his room shut behind him, throws himself on the bed and sobs desperately.

He tells Brock the next day after school. Brock can't break down in public, because no one knows about them, but he starts shaking so bad that Jose thinks he might fall to the ground any second.

"What about us?" he asks, a broken sob breaking free.

"I don't know." Jose sniffs.

"Please… stay!"

"I can't," Jose starts crying right there on the street. Brock gives him a hug and for once stops worrying about what others might think.

"We'll text and call and we can visit each other," Brock tries to fool them both into believing it. They both know there won't be no visits. Neither family can afford the travel.

Back in Florida Jose is glad to be with his extended family again, but the hole in his heart doesn't go away. It feels like a part of him is missing.

The text messages get rare as Brock joins ballet school after summer camp. Soon they stop texting altogether. Where's the sense in it anyway? He's fallen in love with Brock when he was still a kid and now he has to grow up, finish school and get a job.

When they are talking again, his mother asks sometimes if he heard anything from Brock, but it always makes him sad and angry, so after a while she stops. Just his brothers tease him about his 'boyfriend' sometimes, like it's some kind of joke that his heart is broken.

He finishes school, gets a job, continues to dance and hangs out at the clubs. Boyfriends come and go and it doesn't matter who it is or if he's with someone or single; Sometimes he just has to dig the little blue box out, that holds the photographs and polaroids of the time with his one true love. For years that's all he has left.

*******

_Jose hears the key turn in the door lock and freezes. He's forgotten the time while looking through the pictures. Quickly he tries to throw them all back in the box, but they are scattered on the sofa, the couch table and the floor._

_"Hey, I'm back," his boyfriend lets him know unnecessarily and leans over the back of the armchair to give him a kiss hello. Jose throws one last picture back into the box and then closes it. "What's this?" He points to the box._

_"Nothing," Jose shrugs and holds the box tighter, wishes he could just make it disappear._

_"That's not nothing. Why do you look so guilty? What's in there? Sex toys?" he laughs, comes around the couch and tries to take the box from him. Jose holds it tightly. "Come on, what's in there?"_

_"Just stuff… old photos," he shrugs and tries to downplay it._

_"Let me see."_

_"No!"_

_"Why not?"_

_"'Cause it's embarrassing," he mutters, but knows he doesn't stand a chance anymore. He can't keep this a secret anymore without making a huge deal out of it._

_Thing just is, it is a huge deal to him and he doesn't really know how to explain it. He doesn't want to come clean about his first crush in detail. How stupid is it, to have fallen in love with someone when you're so young? Sure, he didn't realise it back then, but… it is what it is._

_His man lifts the lid and sits down on the couch. "Awwww, look at you," he gushes when he sees the first school picture of him taken in Canada. "You were so adorable…. well, still are," he smiles and presses his lips to Jose's cheek before he continues digging._

_"Oh my god, I can't believe you still have that picture! I remember that day. You told me I was pretty and had me so twisted, I was even meaner to you than usual. I'm sorry," Brock laughs when he sees the picture of his birthday party._

_"You gave me the hat," Jose supplies._

_"And you wore it every day for years until it nearly fell apart. I loved that hat on you." Brock puts the box down on the table and pulls Jose close by wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Why didn't you tell me you still have these?"_

_"'Cause it's stupid…" He pouts._

_"Why?"_

_"'Cause it's embarrassing as fuck to tell your man you fell in love with him, when you were nine years old and he hated you," Jose finally spills and huffs. He crosses his arms in front of his chest._

_"I didn't hate you. I didn't know what I felt back then, but it had nothing to do with hate," Brock laughs and cuddles him close. "I thought you were the cutest boy I'd ever seen, when you walked onto the basketball court and shoved me so hard I fell."_

_"Yeah?" Jose perks up, a small smile playing on his lips._

_"Yeah." Brock kisses him. "How about we look through these together and I tell you what I really thought, while I was being an absolute asshole to you?"_

_"You gonna tell me something sweet?"_

_"Of course," Brock chuckles and Jose puckers his lips so he can get another kiss. "Now, look, this one I remember because you…" Brock starts telling him his side of the story and Jose realises that the picture isn't complete until he knows what really went through Brock's mind back then and what he was really feeling._

_Afterwards, the pictures are not going back into the box, but are framed and put up on the wall in the living room of their house. It's not every day that you find your true love at ages nine and eleven, and it's certainly nothing to be ashamed of when it's a story told in photographs on your living-room wall._

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I made a deal with Poppedthep: If I write a second chapter for this story from Bs point of view, I'd get the spin-off of the first kissing scene.
> 
> Since the spin off is here, I have to deliver, too.
> 
> I hope it's ok. Here's what I have come up with in the hours since reading it. I hope you like it.

**Chapter 2**

_Brock comes back into the living room with a couple of photographs he has kept himself. There are more, hidden in a box in his closet, but Jose doesn't need to know that. This will do for now, the rest will come later. For now, he needs to make his man see that he is not the only idiot who fell in love when he was still way too young for it. And he needs both of their photographs to show him._

_So he sits down beside him again, wraps one arm around him and tells him the rest of his side of their story._

**Photograph: Brock, eleven, in jeans and a blue dress shirt playing basketball with his church friends.**

"I met the mother of one of our new students today and we got talking. They will join us Sunday at church," Brock's father says during dinner, but Brock can't say he's too interested in the topic.

"The one who moved here from Florida? He's the one you said was so charming, right?" His mother seems to know who his father is taking about. He wishes his sisters and brother were home tonight, so he wouldn't have to listen to this alone.

"Yes, it is. Brock, you will look after him, right? Introduce him to everyone?" his mother asks him.

"Do I have to? If he's at dad's school, he's way younger than me and I don't wanna babysit all the time," he protests.

"Brock Hayhoe, you listen to me! He's nine years old, that's only two years younger than yourself! And I will not accept you being anything but welcoming to anyone at our church. Are we clear on this?" His father asks and his tone makes it crystal that this is not up for discussion.

"Yes," he mutters and puts his fork down.

"Eat the rest of your dinner, please." His mother's request is more an order than anything else.

"I'm done. Can I go do my homework?" he asks, because it's the only thing that will get him out of these boring dinners with his parents. Why does he have to be the youngest one, who is always alone with them?

"No, you will wait until we are done eating." He wants to roll his eyes, but doesn't dare to. He already hates this new kid, even though he hasn't even seen him yet. Why does he always have to be the one to welcome new kids to the parish? He always feels like an idiot when his parents make him show them around and introduce them to everyone. He never knows what to say to these strangers. Also, he's finally cool with all the others his age, but if he now shows up with this baby in tow, it'll be the same like at school. No way he'll risk his reputation at church for some baby newbie.

When Sunday comes, he first can't spot anyone new. He follows his family into church and sits down in the row behind them with his friends. No way he is sitting next to his parents during service like some pre-schooler.

A minute before service starts a woman hurries in, one he has never seen before. She's beautiful and looks like a movie star. Her hair is long, dark and expertly curled. Her make-up is flawless. She smiles when she sees his dad and greets his parents with a wide smile. He can smell her perfume; She even smells nice. In her arms she holds a little boy, who is too small to be the kid his father talked about. The other one standing beside her is older than him. No way that is her son, because she looks too young to have a kid that's already a teenager. How old is she? She can't be much older than his oldest sister.

"Mijo?" she asks and looks around. "Where is your brother now?" she asks the teenager, but he just shrugs. Suddenly, a boy runs up to her. He looks a bit younger than nine and is small, but it could be the one his father talked about. He's wearing black slacks, a white dress-shirt and a small light blue tie.

"Hello Mr. H," he smiles widely at his father and shakes his hand.

Brock can't tear his eyes away from the kid. This has to be the cutest little boy he's ever seen. The smile, the dimples, the large brown eyes, the…

"Brock, that's the new one?" his friend Tony ellbows him in the side and whispers. Quickly he tears his eyes away from the kid, before someone notices him staring.

"Looks like it." He shrugs and feigns disinterest. He glances over and sees his mother laughing about something the boy says. He doesn't even know his name.

"He's cute, but a baby," Anna whispers from his other side. He agrees with her, but he can't say it out loud, of course.

"Too young for us anyway," he decides and is glad when the service starts.

He has no idea what the sermon is about. He has to concentrate not to giggle about the grimaces the boy makes for his little brother's amusement. He watches as he tries to brush his hair out of his face again and again and fiddles with his tie until his mother throws him a stern look and whispers something in Spanish. He sees how his older brother teases him and how he just puffs out his chest and fights back, even though he doesn't stand a chance against the teenager.

He notices that the new kid doesn't follow them to the children's service in the next room. He stays with his mother instead.

Once church is over, they run outside and play like they do every Sunday. It's his favorite part about church. Brock's not good at basketball, but he is taller than a lot of the others and uses that to his advantage as they play.

"Hey, can I play with you?" a rough little voice comes from the edge of the court and he finds the new boy standing there, still in his dress shirt and tie.

"Who are you?" Alex is the one who asks, because Brock can't find his voice. He has no idea why, but something about this kid makes him nervous.

"I'm Jose. I'm new here. We moved here from Florida a few months ago," the kid says and Brock gets the confirmation that this is really the child his father told him about. He knows he is gonna be in trouble, if he's not nice to him.

Then Jose looks directly at him, their eyes meet and Brock starts feeling weird, all jittery. Maybe he's getting sick? He doesn't like it. "So, can I play with you?"Jose smiles shyly at him, still looking at him with these wide eyes. He has dimples.

"Brock, what do you say?" Tony snaps him out of this weird thing that is going on.

"No, you can't," he decides and quickly turns around so the baby can't look at him _like that_ again.

"Why not?"

"Because you're a baby," Brock says and looks over his shoulder for a second. The kid is crying.

"Am not! I'm nearly ten!" He even stomps his foot. Seeing him angry and crying intensifies the weird feelings in Brock's chest. He hates it.

"Look, at you! You're crying! You're a little cry baby," he yells over to him and passes Tony the ball. He is done with this little kid stuff. He hears the feet hitting the pavement and a second later Jose barrels into him, pushes him with unexpected strength and makes him fall. He is much stronger than he looks. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad having him on his team, he wonders as he watches him run away.

"What a little jerk," Alex laughs and Brock gets up. He laughs with the others, but he likes even less how he feels now, compared to the way he did a minute ago when Jose was looking at him and smiled.

*******

**Photograph: A shot of the kids aged eight to thirteen at the church, sitting on the floor in a circle. Brock is writing something on a piece of paper on the floor, looking at his friend Alex. Jose is sitting on his other side, being ignored, but smiling widely up at Brock in admiration.**

Brock turns around for the sixth time today and gives Jose another dirty look. He wants to yell at him, but that isn't possible, because they're at church.

"Stop it!" he hisses at him as quietly and threateningly as possible, but already knows that Jose won't stop. Instead he just smiles widely. As soon as Brock turns back around Jose starts kicking his foot against Brock's chair again.

Sometimes he kicks his chair, sometimes he taps his shoulder, other times he pokes him in the back. It drives Brock crazy. If he wasn't so afraid what his parents will say, he'd beat the crap out of the little idiot! Not that he's ever beaten anyone. Jose just brings that out in him for some reason.

Jose is by far the most annoying little kid he's ever met. He always sits behind him during the main service and annoys him. Then during the separate service for kids, he always finds a way to sit next to him, sometimes even pushing others out of the way, worming in between him and his friends, or chatting up someone and suddenly just being there.

Brock has warned him, threatened him and insulted him. He calls him 'stalker baby' when he's sure his parents aren't around and he's making fun of Jose whenever he can. Some of the others have started to like Jose, but they don't dare to take Jose's side when he's around.

Anna once asked Jose why he always follows Brock around and he said that he just wants to be his friend. Usually Brock likes having friends, wants more of them, but not Jose. There is something about him, that even when he's not annoying, or loud, or dancing, or smiling that dimply smile of his, sets Brock off and makes him being mean.

He feels bad whenever he makes Jose cry and more than once he thought about apologising.

Once, when he went way over the line with the mean things he said and Jose started crying, he even wanted to give him a hug. But he can't. He just… can't.

The pastor tells all the kids to join his assistant in the other room. Brock gets up. They are halfway there when he feels someone bump into his side.

"Hey!" Jose, of course, who else? He's smiling up at him.

"What?" he barks.

"I like your hat. Is it new?" Jose asks and points to his black basketball hat.

"None of your business," he says harshly and Jose's smile falls. "God, why are you such an annoying stalker? Just stay away from me, creep baby!" Again his words hurt him when he speaks them, but he can't stop. What is wrong with him?

Still, at some point Jose ends up sitting next to him again as they form a circle on the floor. Brock adjusts his hat and tries to ignore him, but doesn't manage to do so. He never does, he's always very aware of Jose being there.

*******

**Photograph: Jose, age ten, at a BBQ holding corn in his hand and standing next to his father and brothers.**

"Hey mom," Brock says and pushes his hands deeply into the pockets of his jeans.

"Yes?" she asks without turning around, her focus on the stove and whatever she is cooking.

"Uhm, have you… like… do you know where Jose is? I haven't seen him at church lately," he finally asks what's been weighing on him for the last weeks.

Suddenly, Jose was just gone. No one was kicking his chair, no one asking him every time how he is and complimenting his new T-shirt or shoes. No one sitting next to him, always a bit too close. No one making him feel all funny when he smiles at him.

"Oh, I didn't know you were friends," she says, but that doesn't answer his question.

"We're not. He's annoying as hell," he hurries to say.

"Brock! That's a dollar for the swearing jar," she points out and her expression is stern when she turns to look at him.

"Sorry," he mumbles and fiddles with his shirt before he puts his hands back in his pockets, sways back and forth on his feet.

"Can you please set the table, instead of just standing there?" she asks him, when he stays and waits for an answer to his earlier question.

"Yes," he mutters again and opens the cupboard to get the plates. He puts the cutlery on top of the stack but then stops. "So, uhm… do you know where he is?" he asks again, getting more and more nervous. "Just so, uhm, I know how long the peace lasts."

"I think Anabell said that the boys are with their father in Florida for the break. They'll be back once school starts again," she tells him. The nervousness is gone when he hears it. Four more weeks and then Jose will be back… or four more weeks of not being annoyed by him constantly, he tells himself quickly.

He sets the table, whistles while doing so. He goes back to the kitchen and gets glasses.

"Anything else?" he asks his mother.

"No, dinner will still take a moment," she shakes her head and looks at him for a moment. Brock just smiles, even though he can't place the look she gives him. "Speaking of Jose… his mother told me he'll turn eleven soon and he wants you to come to his party. They are going to celebrate at the church BBQ."

"Oh, ok," he says. He doesn't understand why Jose would want him at his party, when he's always so mean to him. But nothing Jose does really makes any sense to him.

"So you want to go?"

"Uhm, sure. I mean…It'd be weird, if I said no and then will still be at the BBQ, right?" he asks.

"Ok, then I'll tell her. You better start thinking about what we can get him. Nothing too expensive, please," she requests.

Brock doesn't have to think about it. He knows what he'll get Jose for his birthday. "A Chicago bulls hat! That's not too expensive, right?" he asks. Jose never stops babbling about the bulls. And how he wants to be a famous basketball player. Brock always tells him he's too small and will never make it. Jose stopped crying about it and now usually just pouts. Still, the hat is the perfect gift and red looks good on him…and he'll stop stealing his own hat.

"No, that's… ok," his mother replies, again with that weird look in her face.

"Ok then. We can get it next time we go to the mall, right? I mean, so I have it for his birthday."

"It's still six weeks away, Brock."

"Ok," he shrugs and skips off to his room, proud that he came up with the perfect gift for Jose… even if he really doesn't like him.

*******

**Photograph: Jose and Brock sitting beside each other on a sofa, playing video games.**

"Mijo, you have a visitor," Jose's mom says and shoves him gently into the small room. Jose is lying on his bed, watching TV. His eye looks worse than it did three days ago when Brock saw him last. The bruises look nearly black now. He's still wearing a large bandaid on his forehead. Brock knows there are six stitches underneath, because his mother told him, after she held Jose's hand while he was getting them. Brock had been waiting outside.

"Hey," he says awkwardly and shuffles his feet. He has never been here and he has never really been alone with Jose before. But after Jose came to his rescue, beating up one of his worst bullies and getting hurt in the process, it's the least he can do to check up on him. And he needed to see him; needed to see with his own eyes that he was ok and there was no more blood on his face and clothes. Jose hasn't been in school since it happened.

"Hey," Jose smiles at him, but doesn't say more. The times when he was following him around and babbling incessantly are long over. Ever since he made him cry during his eleventh birthday party, Jose ignores him. Brock doesn't like it, but he can understand it. Still, Jose helped him.

"How are you?" he asks him for the lack of anything else to say.

"Fucking bored. I'm stuck in bed all day, but wasn't allowed to sleep or watch tv first, 'cause my mama said I have a conocu.. consiou…," he tries to find the word.

"Concussion," Brock helps him.

"Yeah that. But I'm not throwing up anymore and it doesn't hurt no more, so," he shrugs again, "I'm just bored."

"At least you got a TV in your room," Brock points to the small screen.

"I've seen it all."

"What's that?" Brock asks him because he doesn't really know what cartoon that is.

"You don't know looney toons?" Jose asks, wide eyed.

"My parents never let us watch anything, that's not something old or about god and church. And we only have one TV in the living room," he tells him honestly and feels like even more of a loser than he usually does.

He also still remembers the things Nick said about him, about him being gay and everything. It started a while ago at school and has been following him. It's not true, he's not gay! He doesn't even understand why they say that. But Jose heard it all and so why would he like him hanging around and get dragged into this? It'll only make him look bad and make him lose the cool friends he has at school.

"You wanna watch with me?" Jose offers and scoots closer to the wall, making room for him on his bed. Brock does a double take. Jose really wants him to stay?

"If you don't tell my parents," he shrugs, tries to play it cool. His heart is beating faster though.

"It's our secret," Jose smiles and pats the free space on the bed. "If they find out, we'll tell them you had to look after me, cause my mama's gonna leave for work in a sec."

Just then the door opens and Anabell looks in. She looks as beautiful as ever and says something to Jose in Spanish. Then she comes in and kisses his cheek, before she gives Brock's shoulder a squeeze.

"Behave boys," she says and is gone.

"Your mom is so cool," he is in awe and can't keep it in.

"My mama's the best," Jose nods. For a while they just watch the cartoons in silence and Brock thinks it's the funniest thing he's ever seen. Made even funnier by the way Jose laughs beside him. He can't help but giggle along, stealing glances at him whenever he thinks he can get away with it.

"So, uhm, I brought you something," he remembers when another episode is over. He hands Jose the small bag.

"You bought me a new bulls hat?" Jose's smile is blinding. Brock can't help but smile back. How is it possible for Jose to get even hotter? No, not what he means… like, uhm, more beautiful, in a totally objective kind of way. Even his dad said once that Jose is a cute kid, so it's ok, right? It doesn't mean nothing that he thinks this way.

"Yeah, you know, as a thank you for helping me and I noticed that it was all torn and full of blood at the hospital." He held the old hat while he waited for Jose and his mom at the hospital. He stared at it while he wiped away his own tears, crying because he was so worried about Jose and scared by what had happened. It hadn't been the first time he was physically attacked at school, but it was the first time he had a bloody nose and someone ended up in hospital. That someone being Jose made him feel like crap. Jose didn't deserve this, he was always so nice to everyone. Even him, when he was being mean to him.

"Thank you! I love it! You're the best!" a moment later Jose hugs him. This should feel weird, right? But it doesn't. It feels nice having Jose so close and he holds on tight. He smells nice, too. His heart does that weird flip flop thing in his chest, that it's been doing whenever he thinks of the moment when Jose saved him.

Brock is disappointed when Jose pulls back. Jose doesn't seem to notice and simply puts the new hat on his head.

"How does it look?" he asks, being his usual excited self. He is so cute!

"Like the old one. It's the exact same hat," Brock points out and laughs. It's true after all, but he also likes teasing him.

"Don't be mean to me again! I saved your white boy ass!" Jose huffs and pouts. It's what Brock was hoping for because Jose is always the absolute cutest when he pouts.

"I'm not," Brock says quickly and takes the hat off Jose's head. He turns it around and puts it back on, so it's backwards. That's the way Jose usually wears it. "There," he smiles and reluctantly pulls his hands away. "You look good."

"Yeah?" Jose's smile is back and Brock feels his cheeks heat.

"Yeah," he nods and smiles back.

"You do too," Jose says and their eyes lock for a moment. The strange sensation in his gut is back, the one that happens every time Jose looks at him for a second too long. Every time he smiles at him and every time he sees him unexpectedly at school. It's the one sensation, that he dreams about sometimes, and the one that led him to other thoughts once, late at night. Brock was so ashamed afterwards he hadn't been able to look his parents in the eyes for two whole days. It had also made him say mean things again about Jose at school; not that anyone cares what he says at school.

Brock looks back to the TV when he can't stand it anymore. He doesn't know what all of this means, all the looks and strange feelings and weird dreams, and he really doesn't want to think about it. He gets scared thinking about it, even for just a second.

"You got an x-box?" he notices and is glad for the distraction.

"Yeah, you wanna play? My brother also has a playstation in the living room with real dope games for adults. We can play them."

"He won't mind?"

"He's not allowed to be mean to me as long as I'm hurt, so it's ok," Jose climbs over him and off the bed. Brock closes his eyes because of the sensations that run through him when Jose's body brushes against his. He has to stop this or he'll burn in hell! Slowly Brock follows him.

"Your house is so much cooler than mine," he sighs as he joins Jose on the couch.

"You can come over and hang out whenever. We could watch TV or movies or play video games?"

"Sounds good," Brock agrees, because it really, really does.

"Did I tell ya, that my brother beat up Nick real bad when he found out he did this to us?" Jose asks him and hands him the controller.

"He did? No way!"

"Yup. I think my mama would have too, but my brother had already taken care of it," Jose laughs. "Beat him real good. I think he broke his nose or something."

"See, I'm telling you: way cooler! My dad would have just had 'a talk'. That's so lame! Nick would just beat me up again the next day."

"Yeah, your dad really likes his talks," Jose laughs, seems to know it from his time at school. "Ok, so you know how to play?" he asks him then.

"No, I've never done this!" Brock admits and doesn't care anymore about being cool or not. He simply lets Jose teach him and enjoys the first of many afternoons they spend at Jose's, watching movies and playing games his parents would never let him play at home. Not that he cares at this point what they do, he just likes spending time with Jose.

*******

**Photograph: Brock and Jose smiling into the camera, both smiling wide with suspiciously swollen lips and red cheeks.**

"Hey, baby boo, you ok?" Jose asks Brock and stops kissing his neck. Brock makes a disgruntled noise, but he knows that Jose has picked up on the fact that he isn't really into making out today as much as he usually is.

They are lying on Jose's bed, Jose on top of him, both in the shorts and shirts they wore to school.

It's a hot summer's day and they should be outside somewhere or go swimming, but they'd rather be alone at Jose's and make use of the empty house. It's rare enough that they can be like this.

It's been eleven months since their first kiss and Brock admitting to himself and Jose, through a lot of tears, that he really is gay. He still struggles with it sometimes, still has days when he is sure he will burn in hell for all eternity and longer, for all the kisses and touches and impure thoughts. All with and related to his beautiful boyfriend, who is currently lying on top of him and looking at him with a worried look in his eyes.

"Yeah, just…" he sighs and leans his forehead against Jose's for a second to gather strength. Most days the boy who is responsible for his turmoil, is the only reason he remains sane. "I told my mom this morning about the ballet camp and that I wanna go. At first she said no, like I knew she would. But then I told her all the things we came up with and she said she'd talk to my dad. She said I can go," Brock tells him.

Jose wrinkled his forehead. "But that's good, right? Why you so pressed about it?"

"I'm not. There's just… there was a moment when she asked, if you'd go too and I swear… for a second I thought she knew…. about us." It's hard for Brock to say the words, because it's something he literally has nightmares about.

"What if she does?" Jose says softly and Brock tenses. "Hey, baby, relax," he presses his lips against Brock's for a moment and Brock feels better immediately. "It's just… there were moments when we'd hang out at your house and when she kept walking in every five seconds, even though we're only doing homework. I just…, I thought it was weird."

Brock snorts. "If she knew back then that we're a couple, they'd shipped me off to conversion camp months ago." No way his mother would keep quiet for so long, if she was suspecting something all those months ago, when they were still hanging out at his house. Ever since they just can't stop kissing and things slowly escalate and get more intimate, they only ever stay at Jose's or meet somewhere outside where they can be alone.

"You sure? I know your parents are all strict and shit, but they like… they love you and they real nice," Jose tell him.

"Just one more year and then I'll be done with school and can go to college and move out. We just have to keep it quiet until then. Please?" he begs. It's a plan they made a while ago. How he would go to a college nearby and move to the dorms and Jose would follow in two years and then they'd move in together and they wouldn't have to worry about his parents approval anymore.

"You know I won't say shit. Think I'd risk losing you?" Jose looks so cute when he's all worked up like this that Brock has to kiss him again. Quickly things become heated and hands start wandering. He loves the feeling of Jose on top of him, moving against him. When his hands slip under his T-shirt he moans and kisses him deeper, seeks out his own skin with his hands. But when Jose's hands find his zipper, he freezes, then stops him.

"No," he gasps. "I… I … don't." He wants to, each time they'd come close to going further he really wants to, but he, he can't. He feels tears welling up in his eyes, frustrated about himself. "Why the fuck can't I do this? I want you to…but… every fucking time all I can think of is all the diseases we'll get and how wrong it is what we're doing and how god will punish us and… I hate this!" he yells frustrated and closes his eyes. He's so sick of himself and his fucked up mind.

"You know we have to do nothing," Jose tells him slowly and the fact that he is all understanding and sweet about him being an absolute idiot, nearly makes Brock cry again. "But if you wanna…I mean… my mama sat me down a while ago and gave me a real embarrassing kinda talk, but… like, how it all works and about protection and how not to get diseases and she gave me this flyer about some kinda house in the city where you can get all kinds of information. She said, she not gay, so she don't really know too much, you know about what two guys do. She said she talked to them, cause she needed to know… stuff and like… we can go there? Or check out the brochure she gave me. The pictures are kinda funny," Jose starts giggling and is beet red. His embarrassment makes Brock feel a bit better about his own insecurities. All he knows about sex is what they taught him at school and gay sex was certainly not part of the lesson.

"I think we should start with the brochure." He nods and shyly glances at his boyfriend. How stupid is it, that he touches himself to fantasies of him and the memories of kissing him, when he has no idea how the rest even works with guys. Jose absolutely has a point.

"Then get ready for some real embarrassment, baby! 'Cause, child, these comics are something else," Jose gets up and makes him laugh.

They really have a good laugh about the weird but very explicit cartoon drawings that explain how safe gay sex works and what goes where and what you need. Neither of them knows where to get any of that stuff. Still, they try out some things over the next weeks, the things nothing is needed for but their hands and mouths and Brock has never felt anything like it.

"If I go to hell for this, that's fine by me," he tells Jose afterwards and pulls him closer to his body. Jose just laughs and then kisses him again. 

*******

**Photograph: Brock in a ballet studio, standing in fourth position, a determined but empty look on his face.**

Brock has known fear and anxiety, embarrassment and loneliness, but he's never felt anything as painful and horrible as this. He thinks he might be dying.

Jose is gone. They only had three more days together, since he came to him crying and telling him they were going back to Florida. And now he's just gone.

Brock doesn't remember much about these three days beside hiding out at the old factory as much as they could, helping Jose pack and crying together under Jose's duvet, trying to hide away from the world.

They left last night and Brock hasn't slept a wink. He's only cried and cried and cried. His head is pounding, his mind feels blank and his eyes are so swollen he can barely see. Jose is gone. There it is again, the pain. But he will never see him again and maybe dying would be better anyway? Everything feels so pointless now.

"Brock, why are you still here? School starts in…" his mother is standing inside his room and stops when she sees him. "Are you sick, honey?" she asks and reaches out to touch his forehead. He turns his head away and closes his eyes. He doesn't want to see anyone.

"Please, just leave me alone," he begs and his voice cracks as he starts crying again. He didn't know he had any tears left.

"Oh, honey what happened?" his mother sits down on the edge of his bed. He wishes she could help him and make the pain go away. But she can't bring Jose back, and if he tells her what they are to each other, were to each other… what he _still_ is… she will despise him. But… does it matter anymore?

She starts rubbing his back with one hand, like she used to do when he was a child. Everything was so easy back then.

"I… mom, I'm…" He can't say it. "Jose, he… they left," he finally gets out and breaks down again.

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry," she leans down and pulls him into a tight hug. "I know he was your best friend."

"He's not," he sobs into her shoulder.

"What?"

"He's not" he says again and then pulls back. He needs her to hear this, because he can't live this lie anymore. It's all too much right now. "He's not my best friend. He is… was my boyfriend. I'm gay and I love him," he says and starts sobbing again. He looks down, lets the tears drip onto the duvet as he waits for the inevitable. Maybe, if they kick him out, he can go and live with Jose in Florida? He's sure they could talk Anabell into it. She doesn't mind them being gay.

"Oh Brock, honey, I know." His mother's voice is barely audible over his tears, but then she pulls him back in her arms and holds him again. "I've known for years," she says after a while and he realises she's crying, too.

They remain like this for a while and he gets to skip school the whole week. He just lies there, texts Jose on the other end of the world and cries.

His mother brings him food, which he barely eats and he knows she must have talked to his dad, because he leaves him alone.

A week later he is back in school and a while after that ballet camp follows. He decides to change schools when he gets the offer. Ballet gives him something to focus on, other than his broken heart.

Yet, he and his parents never really talk about it. They know, that's all. And nothing is the same, because Jose is still gone and Brock doesn't know who he is without his other half.

*******

**Photograph: Brock leaning against a doorway, a cheap wig on his head, laughing at something, eyes bright.**

He learns new sides of himself in the years after Jose leaves.

He learns what anxiety means and depression. With no-one to distract him from it, he sometimes sinks so deep into it, that he barely finds his way back out.

He learns that he has to educate himself about gay sex much more than the pamphlet did, the one they laughed their heads off about.

He learns that he loves to travel and hates it at the same time.

He learns what hard works is.

He learns what drag is and that he's really good at it.

He learns that sometimes you can miss someone even after years apart and it just doesn't get any better; you just get better at ignoring it and get used to the pain.

When he moves to Nashville he tries to find Jose. At least they are living in the same country now, right? After they lost contact he hasn't heard from him and often he feels stupid for being still hung up on his first boyfriend.

Only boyfriend, but no one needs to know that.

He finds him on Facebook and even without sending him a friends request he can see that he's living in Texas now, works and has a dog and a boyfriend. Brock feels like throwing up when he sees the picture of the three of them together.

Drag takes him all over the country the better he gets. When he's in Florida and needs new make-up he gets the surprise of a life-time when he walks into the MAC store.

"Brock?"

"Anabell?" he can barely get the word out, before she has swept him up in a hug so tight he can barely breathe.

"Oh mijo, I missed you," she says and presses kisses to his cheek. He squeezes her tighter and breathes in her expensive perfume. It feels a bit like coming home, so familiar.

"I missed you, too." He replies honestly and tries hard not to cry.

"Let me take a look at you," she pulls back and gives him a once over. "Have you grown even more? How is that possible?" she smiles and runs her hand through his hair. "How are you, darling?"

"I'm good, how are you?" he smiles and hopes the pain in his eyes won't show. He itches to ask about Jose, wants to know everything, but then again… not. He remembers the pictures he saw a year ago on Facebook.

"Good, busy, you know." She looks at him with a tender look in her eyes and gives his hand a squeeze. "Does Jose know you're here?"

Brock startles at the question." Uh, no. I'm not… we're not in contact anymore," he says and thinks it's weird that she doesn't know that. "I, uhm, I heard he's living in Texas now, with his boyfriend." There, that sounds better than admitting to stalking him on Facebook.

She pulls him to the side, so they are not standing in the middle of the store anymore. "Now, listen, I know it's none of my business, but… Jose is here in Florida. He's been back for a couple of weeks, but they broke up months ago. He just didn't have no money to come back. It never lasts with anyone. Couple of weeks and then it's over. He's not… there's… when I look into your eyes I see the same pain, I see in my son's, you understand?" she asks and Brock puts a hand against the wall to steady himself. "I'm so sorry we had to leave back then. But you were so young and I couldn't leave him there and your parents didn't know." She takes a deep breath. "Jose's been looking you up online. He knows you danced ballet, he knows you lived all over the place. He told me you were living in South Africa now. If he knew you're here, even here in the US…"

"Where is he?" Brock interrupts her.

There are no more words needed when she types the address of a dance studio into his phone. The forty minute drive in the taxi feels longer than his last transcontinental flight.

He walks into the studio, finds the room number she gave him and knows that his class won't start for another forty minutes, but he's always early to get some training in himself.

Brock's heart is beating wildly when he opens the door quietly and without knocking.

Jose is dancing, rehearsing some type of hiphop choreography and he is so good. He is watching himself in the mirror and doesn't see in the reflection that Brock is leaning against the doorway for at least a minute. When he does, he stops dead in his tracks and stares. Brock smiles shakily. He feels like his knees might give out under him.

When the music stops Jose moves and whirls around. His eyes are wide and he takes a step closer to him, then stops again.

"What…How… Why are you here?" Jose finally finds his voice while Brock just watches him, tries to look his fill because he doesn't know what this day might bring. He wants to remember this moment, no matter the outcome.

"You're pretty," he tells him, remembering the moment he realised what love is. Jose said the exact same words.

"Brock!" Jose doesn't shout. It's more of a broken sob and a moment later Brock feels complete again when he holds him in his arms. It's been ten long years.

*******

_"That was the fucking best moment of my life!" Jose smiles when Brock finishes with the last photo, because it was taken that same day during the class Jose still had to teach. The girls had decided Brock had to dress up as a girl to join them, because there were no boys allowed other than Jose._

_"That was the best moment of your life? Me in that cheap wig? And here I thought you'd think us moving in together or getting on drag race together or buying this house together would be the fucking best moment of your life!" Brock tries to look outraged, but knows the smile on his face gives him away. Jose can read him like a book._

_"Oh shut up! You know what I mean," Jose rolls his eyes and puckers his lips. Brock rolls his eyes as well, just to tease him and then gives him the kiss they both crave. "You know, twinkle toes, there's a way to give me a new fucking best moment of my life in the near future," Jose says seductively, which makes Brock lean in again._

_"Oh yeah? You like us having sex so much? I mean we learned A LOT since then, but," he chuckles._

_"Get your mind out of the gutter, dumb-ass,"Jose leans back, so their lips aren't brushing against each other anymore. "Not what I meant."_

_"Oh no? What did you mean?"_

_"If you like it, you better put a ring on it," Jose says sassily and wiggles his eyebrows. He's been dropping not so subtle hints about getting married for a while now. Well, since they got back together five years ago, but he's only really meant it for about six months, Brock knows._

_"First things first," Brock tells him and pulls him in for a passionate kiss._

_He'll distract him with sex again. It always works._

_Because Jose really doesn't need to know that the ring is already hidden in Brock's box of old photographs, that sits on the bottom of his closet. And it will remain there for another two weeks, until they are going to fly back to Canada to visit his family. Then he is going to take his man out to the ruin of the old factory, where they first kissed. And then he is going to ask him and put a ring on it. His nieces are already instructed where to hide. Whoever takes the best photograph of the moment will be the first bridesmaid, or grooms-maid, or whatever, he doesn't care. All he cares about is getting the moment captured in yet another photograph._

**_The end._ **

**_For real this time ;)_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you, who haven't read the spin-off yet: Go read it! It's amazing!
> 
> Something 'Bout you makes me wanna do things that I shouldn't by PoppedtheP (no idea how and if I can link something here, but I think you'll find it. I have faith in you!)

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think


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